The Evenstar
by thisarylwren
Summary: While Aragorn is journeying with the Rangers, Legolas visits Rivendell and becomes infatuated with the resplendent Arwen. When Aragorn returns, heated feelings lead to fierce contention, and a deep friendship is threatened.
1. Prologue

**Title: **The Evenstar  
**Author: **AuroraNights  
**Summary:** While Aragorn is journeying with the Rangers, Legolas visits Rivendell and becomes infatuated with the resplendent Arwen. When Aragorn returns, heated feelings lead to fierce contention, and a deep friendship is threatened.  
**Author's Notes: **It's late. Ridiculously late. So late that it's early. Yet my mind wouldn't let me sleep until I churned out the prologue! Anyhoo, I was sitting around studying for finals when bam this bunny hit me. If Arwen is described as so fair, that her beauty equals that of Luthien, then wouldn't Legolas have ever been attracted to her? Just for the purposes of me liking a younger Aragorn =P, Aragorn is 29 in this story and Legolas is...um...mildly younger than he is in the books. All those descriptive details and why they're in Rivendell can be revealed later. Sleep is precious. XD

Oh riiiight one last thing. I acknowledge Aragorn probably sounds angrier than usual, but there's actually a reason for his unusual lack of tolerance which will be revealed in later chapters.

===

**PROLOGUE**

===

"Traitor," Aragorn hissed, his voice dark. One hand drifted toward his sword. "All these years you have known how I felt toward her and yet you still took that into no regard." His voice dropped a notch. "How long, Legolas? How long did you think you could keep this a secret from me? Did you truly think I would not notice?"

"Aragorn, please. You do not understand."

"What is there _not_ to understand?" Aragorn demanded angrily. "Explain it to me then!"

Legolas stood by the window, perfectly serene. The pale moonlight washed over his features and illuminated the deep sorrow on his face, and also, the purpling bruise on his cheekbone. The elf touched it gingerly. "You are quick to action tonight, Aragorn. It is most unlike you."

Something in Aragorn's face twitched violently. Then the man took a few steps forward, his knuckle-battered hand still wrapped firmly around the hilt of his sword. "Do not try my patience tonight, Legolas, for I tell you now I am not in the mood. You have asked me to listen to an explanation and tonight, that is all I am willing to give. Now speak!"

"Peace, my friend," Legolas said softly. "We have been friends for twenty years now. Do you still doubt me? I would never knowingly hurt you."

"Nor would I!"

Legolas gently massaged the bruise on his face, the bruise that had been inflicted on him by none other than Aragorn. "Yet you have done so this night."

At that, Aragorn flushed deeply, but no regret marred his tone. "As have you," he replied coldly. "Now I have had enough of this verbal meandering. Legolas! If you truly have an explanation as you claim, then enlighten me!"

Yet speed was certainly the last thing on the elf's mind, and he absentmindedly ran his fingers along the smooth windowsill, while watching Aragorn out of the corner of one eye. The man's rage was palpably building and several times, he started forward, but by some gift from the Valar, halted himself, resumed his previous position, and fumed.

Finally, Legolas found the courage within him to speak. "I offer no excuse, my friend, save that I love her."

He had been expecting an explosion. He had been expecting Aragorn to swing at him, either with a sword, or even with his bare fists. Yet all he received was a stony sort of silence. With trepidation, Legolas looked up and across the room at Aragorn. The man was standing absolutely still. Pure fury radiated from Aragorn's eyes as Legolas forced their gazes to meet. "You. You? You love her?" Aragorn choked out, his hands clenching and unclenching.

Unable to form words, Legolas nodded.

For a long moment, Aragorn glowered at him. Several times he began to speak, but each time he cut himself off with a violent oath and turned away. Then finally, unable to contain himself any longer, he thundered, "You KNEW I loved her and still you chased after her! She is MINE! And now? Has she fallen for you too, Legolas? Have you completely succeeded in destroying my heart? HAVE YOU?"

"That was not my intention," Legolas said quietly.

"Your intentions can be eaten by a Balrog for all I care!" Aragorn said angrily. How dare the elf stand there and look so calm? How dare one he thought a friend chase after the woman he loved? Arwen was HIS. How could Legolas have courted her? Did his feelings mean nothing to Legolas? His hand moved of its own accord, tightened around the hilt of his sword, and drew forth the blade. With a shaking hand, he pointed it at Legolas's bare throat, the blade glimmerering mere inches away from the precious vein of life.

"You wish to hurt me," Legolas said, his voice sorrowful but even. Defeat was plainly written across his features. "I can neither rescind my actions nor the emotions of my heart, Aragorn. Yet if hurting me will give you some satisfaction, then I will allow it."

"Fight me," Aragorn said hoarsely.

Very slowly, Legolas loosened his curved knives from their sheaths. Then he opened his hand and allowed the weapons to clatter to the ground. "Aragorn," he pleaded. "I will not fight you."

Aragorn's hand trembled and he closed his eyes painfully. Years of friendship conditioned his arm and he knew instantly he could not strike Legolas unarmed, despite all that the elf had done. He could not do it. Shaking with uncontrollable rage, angry tears streaming down his face, Aragorn flung his sword to the ground with every ounce of strength he possessed before wheeling and stalking from the room. He needed to go. He needed to go away from the elf who he had thought a friend, the elf who had betrayed him, the elf who had captured the heart of the maiden he loved.

**tbc**

====

While this certainly isn't my first LOTR fic effort, it's the first one I've posted to this site. So please, let me know what you think so far! =)


	2. Enemies Within

**Author's Notes: **Thank you SO much to all who reviewed! Each one brought a smile to my lips. More personalized responses to the reviews are at the bottom of this chapter. =) Again, huge thanks to all for the feedback. I wasn't intending to write any more of the story until finals were over, but some of the reviews fed that nefarious plot bunny and now it's loose again.

===

**CHAPTER I  
**_Two weeks earlier…_

===

Dawn approached. In the skies above, indifferent to the goings and passings of the living creatures so very far below, the mortal sun and stars wrestled for control. Slowly but surely, streaks of light began to extend across the horizon, painting bold colors of scarlet and gold, and the heavens glittered with pride as the sun rose triumphantly from battle and night was forced to furl her velvety cloak and retreat.

Aragorn, son of Arathorn, shook himself awake. Growing up in Imladris, he had long learned to wake with the sun. Well actually, Aragorn reflected wryly, that had largely been because Rivendell elves had a rather aggravating tendency to sing songs of welcome to the sun and despite common belief, not all elves had melodious voices. At the memory of a particularly horrid morning song, a smile graced his youthful features.

He possessed the lean and stern face of a noble, which was framed by his shoulder-length black hair. His eyes were grey, yet on closer inspection, would could see flecks of blue. Oft times, women at bars swooned over him, yet far from enjoying the attention of pretty young maidens, Aragorn always blushed and stammered excuses before taking his leave. It was yet another thing that separated him from the men he was supposed to be leader of. Which reminded him…

Aragorn sighed and ran one hand through his hair. He was twenty-nine years of age, a mere boy to most of the Dúnedain he traveled with. They had years of experience over him and Aragorn sensed their deep resentment and distrust that a young "elf-pampered princeling" was their new Chieftain and commander. They trusted him as they loved Sauron.

"You are late to breakfast."

Aragorn jumped slightly at the voice, but quickly recovered his composure. He spoke politely, "A good morning to you, Darien."

Darien scowled. The ranger was a sturdy and solidly built man, some twenty years older than Aragorn, but unlike the young chieftain, Darien looked his age. His face was hardened and marred with battle scars and he wore a constant frown on his face, as if naught in the world could cheer him. Even a good bottle of the finest Elven cordial failed to produce a smile. He was quick to temper and slow to ease, yet in battle, he was amongst the fiercest and most loyal. However, as Darien had blatantly stated many times, he only obeyed Aragorn out of obligation to the line of Isildur and certainly not because he felt any sort of loyalty toward him.

"It is a lousy morning when the men are kept from their earned breakfast because some sloth ones among us oversleep," he said.

The familiar rude tone failed to faze Aragorn, much to Darien's disappointment. "Very well," said Aragorn. "I will ask for the pardon of the men, but until then, inform them that they have no need to wait for me to join them before beginning the morning meal."

"A most welcome gift," said Darien stiffly. His brown eyes bore defiantly into Aragorn's before he sketched an extremely short bow and ducked out of the tent.

Aragorn sighed. He had fourteen able men under his command and of them, Darien was the most openly resentful. Three of the fourteen were younger than Aragorn, around twenty-six years of age, and looked up to Aragorn with something akin to hero-worship. The remaining ten were older, including the senior Dúnedain and guide, Ratharion, but while they plainly weren't keen on Aragorn's leadership, nevertheless followed his orders and made no few disruptions. Yet Darien…he seemingly had two goals in life: to uphold his honor as a Ranger and to display as much antagonism as possible toward Aragorn.

Darien was a proud man and had good reason to be, Aragorn knew. His skills with a sword were exemplary and he was an accurate shot with a bow and arrow. A part of his resentment stemmed from the fact that he felt Aragorn's lineage had given him such an easy route to the power that Darien so coveted. After a decade more of hard work and trials, Isildur's Heir had still jumped Darien in ranks, and merely by being born!

With another heartfelt sigh, Aragorn adjusted his clothing and ducked out of the tent. He had tarried long enough. Storing his thoughts on Darien in the back of his mind, Aragorn began a purposeful walk toward where the other rangers were eating breakfast. As expected, he received little greeting and those he received were unenthusiastic.

"What plans have you for the morning, lord?" Ratharion finally spoke in a low and guttural voice, breaking the tense morning silence as unkindly as a rock flies through the air and smashes into a fortress of stone.

"To eat my fill of cram, my friend," Aragorn said lightly.

Halbarad, one of the younger rangers, gave a soft snort of laughter, but quickly masked it with a cough. Still, he shot Aragorn a sly smile and Aragorn couldn't help but smile in response. Halbarad had a boyish and instantly likeable air about him. "Did you sleep well last night, Halbarad?"

"Quite well considering the snores of some," Halbarad said and rolled his eyes in the direction of one of the senior rangers. "Not that I feel any bitterness over losing a night of sleep, mind you. Nay, none whatsoever."

Aragorn grinned broadly. "And of course I believe you."

Ratharion cleared his throat in an annoyed fashion. "Respectfully, Lord Aragorn, you stray from my question. Much as it would please us all to sit around and jest, there is much to be done and little time in which we must do it all."

"You speak wisely and only a fool would not heed," conceded Aragorn. "Very well then. We will spend the morning scouting the western forest for any signs of the Enemy before retiring to the Ranuhai Pass to repair our weapons and take some rest. My instincts tell me we will encounter a more difficult road soon and best we prepare ourselves while we may."

"Your instincts, you say?" Darien spoke up, his voice hard. "We make our plans solely on your instincts? Are we to trust them with our lives?"

Aragorn looked hard at the other man. Patience and serenity were all very good, but there were times when he wanted to simply scrap everything Lord Elrond had taught him and let loose a few arrows in Darien's direction. Yet, Aragorn reflected, the elven lord had shown him there were other and more useful weapons than bows and arrows, and now was the perfect time to use one, one which Lord Elrond was quite fond of: silence.

So he said nothing. He simply looked at Darien and allowed the tension in the air to build, and gradually, the older ranger began to shift uncomfortably and look around at others, seeking silent support. Yet everywhere he looked, his gaze was always drawn back to Aragorn by undecipherable magnetic forces between their eyes.

Then Aragorn spoke, his voice even. "You do not like me, Darien. That is not something I require. Nor do you have to trust me wholly for doubt is healthy and doubt enables us to live to see another day. Yet when you disagree with what I say, you will address the matter in a way that does not shame your family."

Darien flushed, but before he could respond, Aragorn stood and stretched. "I go to scout the path ahead," said he, "I will return in twenty minutes and that is when we will depart."

"Pompous young fool," Darien muttered once Aragorn was out of earshot.

However Ratharion was looking at Aragorn's back with rekindled interest. "Pompous and young he is, but mayhap, not a fool."

* * *

Many leagues away, it was in much more tranquil lands and friendlier conditions that Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, awoke. And much like his childhood friend Aragorn, Legolas was soon joined by company.

"You slept a long time."

Legolas tilted his head lazily in the direction of the voice. "Indeed I did." Less than a second later however, he straightened and hurriedly covered his bare chest with a blanket. "Ai Valar! Arwen, how came you into my rooms?"

The fair maiden of Rivendell raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him and said beguilingly, "You have not been in Rivendell long, Legolas, and though I admit I am not here often as well, I do know every secret within these halls. Doors and locks are of no trouble to me, nor are secret passageways preserved from the First Age."

Well, that was somewhat troubling to his privacy, Legolas thought with a sigh, making a mental note to speak with Lord Elrond sometime later. In the meanwhile, he fixed Arwen with what he hoped was a commanding look. "Well then. So you are in my private chambers, but what brings you here?"

Again, Arwen graced him with a mysterious smile. "After what Elladan and Elrohir did to you last night, how could I not check on your condition? That was an awful lot of wine you consumed!"

The thought of those pesky and tricky twins of Elrond made Legolas groan. "I am fine now," he mumbled, "Though those two sons of Balrogs will certainly not be fine after I am through with them!"

"You were throwing up a lot last night," Arwen said helpfully.

Legolas glared at her. "I have no wish to recall that – " he began.

"And yet there is no terrible hangover this morning? That is unusual."

Legolas grimaced. He had only vague memories of the previous night, but he thought he could remember Lord Elrond slipping him some herbs to ease his pounding headache and upset stomach. "And why is it, my lady, that you sound so disappointed?"

Oh, a truly devilish look crossed Arwen's face, but less than a second later, one of near perfect innocence replaced it. "Be very careful what you accuse me of, Legolas," she laughed. "You never know when my hand might slip over your wine at dinner. It would be so simple and yet so…entertaining."

Legolas attempted to glare at her, the deceptively dulcet daughter of the Lord Elrond, but his mirth overcame him and he joined her in laughter. "My lady Arwen," he said, between undignified snorts of laughter. "These past three weeks in Rivendell have been truly brightened by your light. Never has a diplomatic mission been so entertaining, as you so rightfully put it."

"I am glad to hear that, Legolas."

"I almost do not wish to depart," Legolas sighed. "Now I realize why Aragorn speaks so highly of Rivendell. There is yet so much light within these lands."

At mention of Aragorn, Arwen sobered instantly. "Aye, there is light in these lands," she said softly, "But there is also a great pain here for him." There was a wistfulness in her tone, and also, to Legolas's surprise, a pang of regret and loss.

"There is pain for you as well," he said quietly, rising from the bed to take her hands in his. He squeezed gently, offering what support he could. He did not know why – or frankly, how! – anybody could be hurt in such a beautiful and pristine place like Rivendell, but it was clear something had happened in Rivendell that had hurt Aragorn and Arwen deeply. Oh how I wish I could help them! Legolas thought.

Arwen spoke, deep emotion coloring her voice. "I know it may be difficult for you to envision that there could be any darkness in Rivendell, Legolas. You come from a land where darkness is ever present and where it threatens to suffocate the whole of your people. Yet behind Rivendell's beauty and serenity also lurks evil and it is what drives both Estel and I to places beyond Rivendell's borders."

Although there was no admonishment behind her words, Legolas flushed all the same. "Forgive my ignorance," he murmured. "I did not know."

"Few do." For a long moment, Arwen stared distantly off out the window before she closed her eyes and released a heavy sigh. When she reopened her eyes, they were sparkling with fresh energy. "Enough of this depressing talk, Legolas. There is too much work to be done and too many other matters of greater importance. Now – " she rubbed her hands together eagerly. "Let us speak of revenge against my brothers."

Legolas blinked, and then decided perhaps it would behoove him to drop the subject and simply follow Arwen's lead. "Ah – of course."

* * *

"I do not see how you put up with that great stinking ass – "

"Halbarad," Aragorn warned.

Halbarad rapidly reviewed his statement. " – Ascent up the mountain we did yesterday," he said lamely. "What was with that horrible smell? You are certain you bathed the previous night, Aragorn?"

Aragorn rolled his eyes skyward. "_Halbarad._"

"_Aragorn._"

Despite himself, Aragorn grinned. Of all his men, Halbarad was the only one with the audacity to call him by first name and although most commanders would reprimand for failing to adhere to the strict customs that separated a commander from his warriors, Aragorn found he rather enjoyed the informality. It gave him a feeling of camaraderie that he had not experienced since he had left Rivendell nine years ago.

"You are getting elvish again."

Oh but there were times when Halbarad's insistence for overstepping the boundaries of ranks drove him to near madness! "Getting elvish?" Aragorn repeated, knitting his eyebrows together as he regarded the other man.

"It is when you take a complete leave of your senses and stare vaguely off into the distance as if the trees or fronds are speaking to you."

"A complete leave of my senses?"

"It is also when you repeat everything I say with a question," Halbarad said, making an admirable attempt at a straight face. "Now, Aragorn, I have not been around elves as much as you have, but I do know some of their queer habits! And I say you possess a frightening number of them."

Whenever Aragorn was unsure of how to respond, he would fall back on his standard answer, one that Lord Elrond had painstakingly drilled into him. "Thank you, Halbarad."

Both of Halbarad's eyes widened and he gaped at Aragorn. "Did you just thank me for attempting to insult you and your disturbing elvish habits?"

This time, a retort came to Aragorn's mind. "Oh so insulting me was what you were attempting to do?"

"Oh that is a fine response," Halbarad complimented. "Insulting my ability to insult."

_Should I say 'thank you' again?_ Aragorn wondered. It had also been a long time since he had matched wits with another. Oh Valar, he was out of practice! What would Elrohir and Elladan say when – if - he returned to Rivendell? He settled instead for brushing an errant lock of hair out of his face before returning to his task of sharpening his assorted daggers. The rangers were resting for the night and using the time to prepare for the vague yet ominous and approaching wave of evil Aragorn sensed.

"No response?" Halbarad grinned. "Am I to assume I win?"

Aragorn shot him a look of great exasperation. "Assume what you will."

"Then thank you, my lord, for the permission."

"Oh keep quiet, Halbarad!" Darien snapped from across the camp. The older ranger looked up from his bedroll and scowled darkly at both Aragorn and Halbarad. He directed his next words at Aragorn. "You say you sense an upcoming danger, yet when your men attempt to rest, you insist upon making such a racket to wake the dead!"

"My apologies," Aragorn murmured, grateful that the flickering fire and dark night could hide his flush. He had forgotten that he was the leader of this group of men and that he was responsible for their welfare. When he quibbled with Halbarad, many times he forgot he was no longer just a boy, but a chieftain.

Sensing Aragorn's surrender into silence, Halbarad heaved a sigh and focused on whetting his long knife. Grateful that Halbarad had followed his lead, Aragorn once more allowed his mind to wander. Oh there was a darkness approaching them rapidly, for his foresight had been very clear on that. But how Aragorn wished for more details! When and how? What was this darkness and what form would it appear in? Would it be something that could be fought or was it some internal strife Aragorn sensed?

His eyes flickered to Darien, who was now curled up by the fire. Indeed the older ranger was no supporter of Aragorn, but would he truly do anything harmful against either Aragorn or the other rangers? Aragorn most fervently hoped not, and yet, men under his command had betrayed him in the past before. Through painful experience, Aragorn had learned that few could be completely trusted and that oft times, those who ought to be trusted most, betrayed most.

Aragorn ran his tongue over his lips as he contemplated the situation. Then he sighed. Nay, he should not - _could_ not – completely trust Darien. The young ranger sharpened his senses even as he sharpened his knife. Not only did he have enemies from outside, he had enemies within.

**tbc**

===

**Arwens-pet-hamster**: First off, I love the penname! XD Thanks so much for the feedback! I'm glad someone has to suffer from Evil Plot Bunnies With Really Sharp Teeth (TM) too.

**Kale**: You - you - you - sputters AGH! I haven't spoken with you in ages! hugs to death How've been doing? Sign onto AIM sometime! It should almost be summer for you too. Mwahaha. And yes, I've changed my penname yet again. Shut up. It's not like you don't have fifty or so online names. =P

**Taraisilwen**: Thanks for the CC! I agree with you a lot; Aragorn sounds like he sat upon a rather large hedgehog or something of the sort. At the moment, I'm trying to weave a credible backstory which will explain why he's so possessive and furious with Legolas. There'll also be plenty of "I'm not worthy" Aragorn angst later on. Thanks for pointing out that Aragorn would feel that way; that completely slipped my mind. =D I hope you stick with the story and continue to provide the feedback.

**walk the sky**: Walk! It's been ages since I've spoken with you too. Thanks for the offer to beta; you're the GAL for beta-ing. .

**IMTrinity**: Thank you so much for the kind feedback! It brought a huge smile to my face.

**Tanarian**: Lol BINGO! You've hit on exactly what I'm hoping to write in future chapters. I hope they'll meet your expectations. .

**Beebo**: Another Legolas-torture fan! highfive

**Inu-Lover**: Thanks, Inu-Lover! I love Aragorn and Legolas friendship fics, but in the end, I'm a person who loves conflict too much. =D

**Aislynn Crowdaughter**: Thanks for the review, Aislynn! As for whether or not Arwen loves Legolas back...in all honesty, I have no idea! I hope she'll tell me sometime during the writing of the story.

**Joey:** A big hug back for the kind review! .


	3. Fractured Hearts

**Author's Note**: Again, thank you all so much for the kind reviews. You're all incredible. -hugs everyone- =) Also to those who have been following the story, **Rathar**, the old ranger, has been renamed to **Ratharion**. Many thanks to my AWESOME beta, walk the sky, for the suggestion. Also, this chapter is decidedly Legolas-centric, but Aragorn will get more er....screentime? fictime?...in later chapters.

===

**CHAPTER II**

===

An hour later, the Rangers camp had stilled completely, save for the slight movements of the one on watch. Aragorn sat awake on a log, puffing on his pipe even as his keen eyes scanned the horizon for any other sign of life. He saw little of suspicion and heard naught. Aye, that was the problem, Aragorn realized, and the reason for his great anxiety. He quite literally heard nothing.

The wind had ceased her howling, the crickets made no chirps, and even the birds of the night beat their wings soundlessly. Time seemed to hang completely and eerily still. Elladan and Elrohir had described a similar situation once, and they had dubbed it "the calm before the storm."

_But when the storm will strike with all her fury, I know not!_ Aragorn groaned. Tilting his head back to study the pale moon, Aragorn noted grimly that it was a clear night. Not a single cloud wisped across the faces of the stars and all was sharp and clean. A lesser man might have been lulled into a false sense of security by the pretense of serenity in the air, but Aragorn was determined to keep his guard up. Experience had taught him well how deceptive the elements could be.

Aragorn again studied the camp. On such a beautiful night, the men had elected to sleep without the tents, for the tents, while they kept out some of the more unpleasant elements of Arda, were unbearably stuffy. All fourteen of his men had found suitable resting places by the fire and slept with their cloaks wrapped around their shoulders. Their weapons were by their hands, ready to be drawn in a second if need came.

What perturbed Aragorn most was that none of his men were snoring.

On a good night, only four of his men would snore. On average, a good half of them snored. It was no fault of the men, nor any fault of their noble blood. It was merely a combination of sheer exhaustion, wearied lungs, and an excess of mucus, the latter of which seemed to be a common problem amongst men.

Yet this night, this disturbingly calm night, no snores pierced the silence.

Aragorn furrowed his brow and put away his pipe. He was worried, now. With one hand, he loosened his sword in his scabbard as he contemplated waking another of his men to stand watch with him. Although Aragorn possessed senses beyond that of an ordinary man, he could still only watch in one direction at any given time. With such an ominous wave threatening to engulf him and his men whole, he felt it would be better if two stood the watch.

But who to wake? His initial thought was Halbarad. The young ranger was one of the few true friends Aragorn could claim in the world of men, yet Halbarad was so young and so easily distracted! He would most likely cause more disturbance than assist. Perhaps he ought to wake Ratharion. The experienced ranger might have encountered such silence before.

His decision made, Aragorn quietly crept to where Ratharion slept. He was careful not to accidentally awaken any of the other rangers, for he knew well how dangerous freshly woken Dúnedain could be, even ones as clearly exhausted as his men.

"Ratharion," Aragorn whispered, touching the older man's shoulder. "Awake."

Ratharion's eyes snapped open immediately and his sharp brown eyes met Aragorn's. At the worried look on his chieftain's face, he was instantly alert. "Was I to stand watch this night?"

Aragorn shook his head slightly. "Nay, you were not. Nevertheless, I would request that you stand one with me."

If he was surprised at the request, Ratharion said nothing. He merely nodded and followed Aragorn to the edge of their camp. "It is the silence which perturbs your mind, is it not, Lord Aragorn?" he said in a hushed voice. "I sensed it earlier ere I fell asleep. The night is unusually still."

Aragorn nodded. "You have stated my thoughts perfectly. Never before have I encountered such silence. I had hoped you would have and would have counsel."

Ratharion sighed and looked quickly around at the surrounding eaves. Suddenly they were much more ominous and the shadows they drew were darker. For he had indeed encountered such silence before, and when he had, the silence had been a warning to a much deeper evil, deeper than anything Isildur's Heir had ever encountered in his young life. Yet, perhaps there was a chance, a sliver of a chance, that it was not what he feared…"Aragorn, I ask that you search your mind with care. Does a shadow cloud your thoughts?"

Aragorn considered the question and then nodded. "Aye, there is a shadow there. I had not noticed it ere you made mention, but something dark is at the edge of my mind, something that slips nimbly between my fingers when I try to seize it."

Valar take it. "It is as I feared, then." Ratharion paused, and then turned to look directly at his young chieftain. "We are being tracked by a pack of Wargs. From the silence of the night, I would venture that they are only an hour away."

* * *

"I am glad to see you capable of coherent actions and speech this morning, Prince Legolas," Elrond said, his eyes twinkling with mirth. He carefully poured rich golden syrup over his breakfast before passing the pitcher to Legolas.

To his credit, Legolas looked embarrassed. "I had not expected the wine of Imladris to be so potent, Lord Elrond."

"I understand you were deceived to believe that," Elrond said dryly, glancing in the direction of his sons. Identical faces of near innocence smiled back at him. Both twins were fair in color, with dark brown hair that they wore loosely tied back in simple styles. As befitting their station as Elrond's sons and lords of Rivendell, they were dressed in a shimmering grey tunic, complete with a light silver robe and golden brooch. Twin circlets rested atop their heads. By contrast, Legolas wore no fine jewelry to show his royal lines, and was clad in an embroidered gray shirt, soft woolen hose, khaki-green suede jerkin, and plain leather boots. His plain clothing was a subject often teased upon by the twins, although Legolas knew from inside sources that the miscreant pair only dressed up because Elrond was very strict on his sons' appearances.

It would do, perhaps, Legolas mused, for Elrond to be stricter on the lies his sons were more than capable of weaving. An amused smile touched his lips as he heard the latest fabrication.

"Oh Ada, last night clearly cannot be completely blamed upon us," Elladan was saying while Elrohir was nodding his head at precisely the correct moments. "We felt it would benefit the prince more to learn the difficult way that the cordial of Imladris is more potent than that which he is used to."

Elrond's lips twitched. "And why, pray tell, did you feel that way?"

Elladan looked at Elrohir. Elrohir looked at Elladan. Both shrugged.

Arwen suppressed an urge to roll her eyes. Valar, did her brothers know nothing? "Well Ada, it is widely known that experience is the greatest teacher one may have," she intervened smoothly. The lady of Imladris turned a brilliant smile onto Elrond, a smile Elladan swore was capable of softening even the most cantankerous man, elf, or orc. "But all events of last night matter not, for they are past us now and the lesson has been learned. How do you fare this morning?"

Elrond shook his head helplessly and attempted to turn a stern look on his daughter, but his sides shook with silent laughter. "I see you have learned much in Lothlórien, Arwen."

"Lothlórien?" Legolas said blankly.

"It is as I told you this morning," said Arwen. "It is rare when I do linger in Imladris for many of my days are spent under the leaves of Lothlórien, with the kin of my mother, the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn."

"May I know why?" Legolas asked, and then immediately wished he had held his tongue. Both Elladan and Elrohir's expressions darkened considerably at his words and while Lord Elrond made no obvious sign of his discomfort at the question, Legolas's sharp eyesight caught the slight tightening of Elrond's jaw. His years with his loving, but prone to temper father had taught him the many signs of anger and Legolas well recognized the significance of a tightened jaw. "I ask of your pardon," Legolas murmured, bowing his head. Was there no end to the trouble he could get into at Rivendell? First he had gotten drunk and made a fool of himself before the esteemed Lord Elrond and now he had touched upon a topic that clearly brought discomfort to all.

"Nay, it was merely a question," Arwen said gently. "Though it is one of sensitivity, do not berate yourself for your curiosity."

Legolas inclined his head respectfully at her graceful words, but did not speak further. The rest of the meal progressed silently, for none at the table were in the mood for speech. Even had they been, not one of the younger elves would have dared to speak for Lord Elrond, while his expression remained a mask, had a distinctly dark air about him that warned all against intruding on his brooding.

* * *

It was several hours later that Arwen made up her mind to seek out the prince of Mirkwood. She could sense he was still uneasy after the morning's conversation and Arwen had no wish for him to leave Rivendell with a sour memory. Furthermore, the young blond elf was such a close friend of Aragorn's that she had no desire to see him hurt.

Once she had decided to find him, it took less than ten minutes to pinpoint his location. For all his archery talents, she mused, Legolas had no sense at all on how to hide. Oh perhaps he was good enough to avoid being seen by Mirkwood spiders and dullard Orcs, but he was certainly no match for another elf.

That and he had chosen a fairly obvious position. Legolas was perched on a tree overlooking the river. While that in itself was not unusual for an elf, for there were many trees along the riverbanks, Legolas had also chosen the very same tree where he and Aragorn had tied the twins to several months ago. Arwen smothered a smile at the memory. Elladan had been outraged in his letter when he had written about the incident to Arwen.

"Good morning, Legolas," she said.

He flinched violently. "Lady Arwen! I – I was not expecting to be honored with your presence." Arwen silently congratulated the steadiness of his tone. Although his first few words had been flustered, he had rapidly recovered his composure.

As she was wearing a long and flowing silk gown, Arwen doubted she could join him in the trees and settled instead for peering up through the branches. "I wondered if I could have the honor of your company," said she.

There was a short pause. Then: "It would be an honor, my lady." With a few short leaps, Legolas swung onto the ground beside her and executed a short bow.

"Legolas, please. There is no need for formality between friends." Arwen watched Legolas's face carefully. The faintest pink tinged his cheeks. Yet there was something else there, a slight hint of a smile, a smile from being acknowledged a friend.

Yet when Legolas spoke, his words reflected none of that pleasure. "Have you more than one reason to seek me out? I fear I am poor company this day if that is all you sought."

"My reasons were twofold," said Arwen. "The first is that I wish merely to speak with you and enjoy your presence and secondly, our plotting for revenge against my brothers goes unfinished and I would not it have it thus."

A genuine smile spread across Legolas's face. "Nor will it remain thus."

"But first," Arwen continued. "I would speak with you. Please, sit." As she spoke, she sank down onto the soft grass and stretched her legs out, enjoying the moment of tranquility. Such moments were rare and far between, and Arwen had learned well to enjoy them.

Legolas hesitated and then sat down besides the elf-maiden. He cast Arwen a quick look before turning his attention toward the tree. "How long has it been since Estel last left the halls of Rivendell?" he said. "I journeyed here at my father's command, though I had hoped to see him."

"I know not much of the goings of Estel," Arwen said softly. "I fear the question may be better answered by either Elladan or Elrohir. The last I saw of him was when he was twenty years, though I know he has sojourned in Rivendell since then."

"He has visited Mirkwood as well," Legolas said. "Five months ago, I believe. It is difficult to keep track of the time. What to him is an age is to us a mere second."

Arwen smiled vaguely. Estel was a topic of great complexity to her. She loved him so dearly and yet her father was so set against their union! In her heart, Arwen knew she would choose a mortal life if only she could only be with Aragorn, but she knew also that her father would despair at such a decision. Arwen's heart was wrenched in two by the two she loved most in the world: the noble and charming Estel and her wise and caring father. How could she choose which of the two to hurt?

"When I first met him," Legolas said, too distracted with memory to notice the turmoil in Arwen's eyes, "He was but a boy of seven. And so curious! I first stumbled across him in the hallways, and after that, he was constantly following me around. Yet his mind was so inquisitive I could hardly rebuff him."

"Aye, he is that," said Arwen fondly.

"When I next saw him, he twelve years of age, and suddenly so much older! That was when we truly became close," said Legolas. "I spent two years at Rivendell and during that time, I got to know him so well. Though our ages were vastly different, our minds and bodies were only a few years apart and I came to love him so deeply. Then later, when he came of age for mortals and turned eighteen, he spent a year with me in Mirkwood," said Legolas. "Oh those were wonderful days! He enchanted all present, and even my dubious father reluctantly became fond of him. He was so bright and full of life. Lord Elrond named him well. _Estel._ Hope."

Arwen was now fully captivated in the prince's tale. She had heard few stories of Aragorn as a child, only the few that she had managed to coerce from her brothers. Nor had she ever heard the roots of Aragorn and Legolas's deep friendship. All she knew, and this was passed on knowledge from Elladan, was that Legolas and Aragorn shared a tightly knit bond.

"We spent our days hunting spiders and other creatures," Legolas said. "And the talks! For a mortal, Estel was widely read and always eager to learn more. My father, the King Thranduil, was so enchanted by Estel's enthusiasm that once, my father told his chief councilor to cancel his week's schedule merely so he could explain in detail his role in the War of the Ring."

A stab of pain and regret pierced Arwen. Oh what a brilliant man Aragorn was, to able to loosen the lips of King Thranduil! What an intelligent and enthralling young man who now wandered the Wilds with a fractured heart.

"Aye, then when he was two and twenty, he came to visit me again in Mirkwood. I was shocked at how troubled he had become, as if he wore upon himself a great burden – many great burdens," said Legolas, his eyes clouding at the memory. "You see, Arwen, he had come to reveal great secrets…"

* * *

_Seven years ago..._

Legolas's face lit up as he caught sight of a familiar figure standing in the halls of his father. When the servant had summoned him, he had hardly dared believe – he had thought it a lie, a fabrication, or mayhap even a dream –

Yet it was true and his friend stood before him, scraggly, exhausted, but present.

As he rushed forward, Legolas said joyously, "Estel! Long have I waited for you to grace these drab halls with your presence and you have arrived at last!"

A similar smile graced Aragorn's face, which Legolas noticed was far too fatigued and malnourished for his comfort. "It is good to see you my friend," Aragorn rasped, his throat parched from days of long riding.

Legolas frowned and quickly slipped his arm under Aragorn's shoulders, taking some of his friend's weight. Although the man feebly attempted to shake him off, Legolas refused to move, forcing his friend to accept his help. "You have been neglecting yourself again, Estel," he said disapprovingly.

"Have not!" Aragorn protested. "Prissy elf."

"Scruffy ranger," Legolas shot back, grinning. "Come. We have a few empty rooms and you could do with water, a hot meal, and a good long shower."

Two hours later, after Aragorn had washed, eaten, and against his will, dressed in more regal attire, Legolas found himself staring almost incredulously at his old friend. The years had aged his looks, but the familiar sparkle was still present in his grey eyes.

After several long minutes, Aragorn scowled playfully at him. "Enough, Legolas. I acknowledge that elves judge time differently than mortals, but two hours ought to have been enough for you to register the fact that I am here. Now might we please move onto other things?"

"Your ignorance of elves is yet showing, my friend."

Aragorn cast about for a scathing response, but settled instead for a soft laugh. "It is good to be with you, Legolas," he said. "My travels over the past two years have not been as light-hearted and it has been long since I have found myself in good company."

"Estel..." Legolas began, and then paused. A burning question danced upon his lips, but the question was a highly personal one and Legolas wondered if it were too early in their reunion to ask.

But Aragorn simply nodded at him. "Yes?"

"Why did you leave Imladris?" Legolas said quietly.

Aragorn sucked in a sharp breath. Legolas watched him anxiously, desperate to offer what comfort he could, but not knowing how. _Please, unburden yourself!_ he wanted to cry out. _Not all of Arda rests upon your lone shoulders._

Finally, Aragorn spoke, his words measured, "There were two reasons why I sought a life for myself beyond Rivendell."

Legolas tensed at the word 'Rivendell'. It was the word Men used to describe the Last Homely House – not the elven word. Aragorn's use of it made him seem more detached somehow, as if Imladris had ceased to be the place where he had grown up. "What were they?" he pressed gently, _needing_ to know now why his friend was so disturbed.

At the genuine love and warmth shimmering in Legolas's eyes, Aragorn, for the first time in many months, spilled his soul. "Two years ago, Lord Elrond revealed to me a great and terrible knowledge," said he. "For I am the Heir of Isildur, descended from the royal line of kings, and heir to the throne of Gondor."

He could not have possibly surprised Legolas more. For his part, Legolas looked as astonished as if Aragorn had just revealed that the great rivers that snaked through Mirkwood were actually discharged fluids from the bladder of the Valar. Estel, his wonderful friend Estel, was the heir of the throne of Men? Indeed Estel had always had a light in his eyes that echoed of nobility, but to be the heir of Isildur himself?

Yet ere he could respond, Aragorn said, "And I have fallen in love, Legolas, with one whom I may never have." He looked up, then, directly into Legolas's shocked blue eyes. Unbidden, his own eyes were filled with tears. "For she is the daughter of Elrond, and he has decreed our love may never be."

**tbc**

===

I really hadn't intended for Legolas to go off in the past like that, but it's so hard to resist that elf when he wants to talk! So I guess now we'll be going back in time a bit to find out more about Aragorn and Legolas. .

**grumpy**: Thank you, grumpy! I'm glad that you enjoyed the parts with Aragorn and the rangers and it was such a joy to see that someone who had reviewed the first chapter had also read the second.

**Kale**: All righto, Kalo, I've renamed Rathar. =P And before you start demanding I study for school finals, know that I have studied, completed my final projects, and decided to take an afternoon off to write a bit. I think I deserve it! Oh fine, I know what you'll say. XD But thank you so much for the in depth review. Although we've reviewed each other's stories so much, it still makes me happy each time to read what you've said.

**spastikLeggyluver**: Thanks a lot for your comments. =) I'm not a very regular updater normally, but the sheer amount of kind feedback I've been receiving has been very good encouragement.

**shadowfaxgal**: I love the twins too! Heh, I couldn't resist throwing them in there. There hasn't been too much mischief yet, but they might surprise us. Thanks for the support!

**Shorty55**: Thanks, Shorty! Like I mentioned earlier, I'm writing this story a heckuva lot faster than most other stories (thought it also might be because these LOTR characters are a LOT more persistant!)

**IMTrinity**: Hey, I'm delighted to see another review from you! Thank you so much! I hope other chapters will be to your liking.

**Inu Lover**: Thank you again for the feedback, Inu Lover! As for when Aragorn and Legolas will meet up again after the fight in the prologue, the original plan was to write a short backstory and then pick up the storyline after their argument. However the backstory is morphing into something a bit longer than expected, so I can't even begin to guess at when the main conflict of the story will crop back up again.

**Walk**: huge hugs Thank you for being one of the most encouraging betas ever.

**Beebo**: LOL! Skin Leggy to death! I like that idea! =P Thanks for the encouragement!

**Arwens-pet-hamster**: First off, thank you lots for the feedback. Your words mean a lot to me. And second: =O I'm honored that you think I could be good enough for Stories Of Arda! I've read several works on that site and each time been so awed by the talent of the authors archived there. Perhaps once I finish a story XD, then I'll try my hand there. Thanks again!

**Joey**: I was happy to see you review again. . I agree completely with what you said about how a friend deserves far greater trust than a boyfriend. Big hugs to you!

**Morfalasiel**: I blushed solidly for two minutes after reading your kind review. Thank you for taking the time to comment although it wasn't your kind of story. That means a lot. =) And umm....this probably isn't the place to be asking, but could you please update your story about Eldarion? 0=)

Thanks to everyone again! I'm hoping to have time to work on this story again in a week (bleh!) because my school finals are next week and I'll be studying hard. But the good news (for me at least!) is that there's only ONE MORE WEEK of school left! -cheers- Namarie!


End file.
